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From the archives of The Anomalist:"In 1856 Dr. Jobard of Paris declared to a startled press: "I hold a discovery which frightens me. There are two kinds of electricity; one, brute and blind is produced by the contact of metals and acids; the other is intelligent and clairvoyant. The brute (one) ...has followed Jacobii, Bonelli, and Moncal, while the intellectual one was following Bois-Robert, Thilorier, and Chevalier Duplanty. The electrical ball or globular electricity (ball lightning?) contains a thought which disobeys Newton (gravity?) and Mariotte (?) to follow its own freaks.... we have in the annals of the academy thousands of proofs of the intelligence of the electric bolt...but I remark that I am permitting myself to become indiscreet. A little more and I would have disclosed to you the key which is about to discover to us the universal spirit."This odd pronouncement on the true nature of electricity by the mysterious Dr. Jobard immediately reminded me of Vlad…

Why did God create us differently? Why did God make me black and you white? Why did God make the next guy Korean and the next guy Asian and the other guy Hispanic? Why did God create the Indians?

Well, it's interesting to me to know why now. When you look at the black race, black people are very gifted in what we call worship and celebration. A lot of us like to dance, and if you go to black churches, you see people jumping up and down, because they really get into it.

White people were blessed with the gift of structure and organization. You guys do a good job of building businesses and things of that nature and you know how to tap into money pretty much better than a lot of people do around the world.

Hispanics are gifted in family structure. You can see a Hispanic person and they can put 20 or 30 p…

A new, innovative idea for caring for our nations old people is to book them permanent passage on cruise ships, as it would be cheaper than housing them in ‘assisted living facilities’ (what used to be called ‘old folk’s homes’ before the politically correct decided the term ‘old folk’s’ was an offensive slight, harmful to old folk’s self esteem (does anyone really think the geezers are unaware of their own decrepitude?)). Once all the oldies have been lured onto ships, the second half of the plan consists of sailing the ships out to middle of the ocean and sinking them. Or at least I hope that’s what the second half of the plan is, no one (understandably) is saying.

The humorless herd of asses at The American Prospect are upset that Steve Sailer linked to an article that accuses one of their ‘journalists’, the female impersonator Mr. Garance Franke-Ruta, of racism, and have gone so far as to threaten to sue for libel anyone who reproduces the allegations in the article. Normally I try to ignore mediocre journals of modern leftist thought such as TAP (so, apparently do modern leftists – TAP’s circulation is even lower than Mother Jones). As the person who rediscovered the controversial article in question, this threat of legal action is therefore in part directed at me (must everything these days be decided via lawsuit? I am willing to wrestle Mr. Franke-Ruta to settle this dispute. He can even wear his dress if he wants) so I feel compelled to respond. Not out of any fear of legal action (what a joke), but because for some reason I can't resist mocking these blockheads.

When I (and others) quoted accusations of racism made against Mr. Frank…

"Liberalism is the refuge favored by intellectual cowardice, because the essence of the liberal's position is that he has no position. It may be true, with due qualifications, that in certain transitional phases, where the outline of issues is none too clear, the liberal or uncommitted attitude has its expediency. But as something to construct with, never! It is that state of mind before we have made up our mind. The explanation of why liberalism has been erected into a kind of philosophy in our time is perhaps to be sought in the fact that our world is disintegrating rapidly. It is thereby creating the impression that nothing is permanent but change, and that the very concept of truth is a stumbling block to adaptation as the disintegration goes on." - Richard M. Weaver, Up From Liberalism

I've been contemplating travel to Borneo. Recently, a “team of international scientists” went to Borneo where they found enormous “monster” cockroaches living in caves. (The scientists do not say what these monster cockroaches do all day in the caves, I suspect they practice law.) The expedition also found (hold on to your hats) “at least two new species of begonias”. I was under the impression we had more than enough kinds of begonias already, but then I’m not a scientist or an antholagniac.

Undoubtedly inspired by the 'nannygate' scandal of Dept. of Homeland Security nominee Bernard Kerik, I’ve learned nasty accusations are being whispered regarding my tiny Latin American valet Senor Moreno (known as 'Manos de la Piedra' in his younger days as a Bolivian jockey). For the record, he is not illegal - I won him fair and square in a poker game.

Scientists have now ‘discovered’ a correlation between the decline in smoking and the increase in obesity. What took them so long? They were probably too busy keeping jellyfish up all night. This correlation occurred to me in a flash of drunken insight years ago, and I have publicized it on numerous occasions since then, usually when a fatty at a bar complains of my second hand smoke. I have no hope the dishonest poseurs that comprise the modern Science Establishment will give me the credit I am due, but what a comical embarrassment for the professional scientists to be nearly half a decade behind a creative amateur.

Unfortunately, the weather in Seattle today is sunny and warm, with just a few tiny brush-strokes of cloud on one small corner of the vast blue canvas of sky. I say unfortunately because, as you may recall, the reason I returned to Seattle for the holidays was that Seattle’s usual grey, drizzly weather is soothing when I have a hangover. Oh well, boredom is also soothing when I have a hangover, and Seattle can still be counted on to provide plenty of that.

My headache is interrupted by the arrival of a telegram from my good friend the renowned thinker Professor Glen Morangie, alerting me to a recent ‘scientific breakthrough’ in Australia. Use of the term scientific breakthrough leads me to expect something momentous, such as the discovery of a new kind of gravity or the invention of a machine which can ensure that the weather is grey and drizzly when I have a hangover. Instead I learn the breakthrough is:
A team of north Queensland experts found one of the world's most deadlies…

For once, some good news:"Democracy is the future," Mr. Qaddafi, 32, said at his Moroccan-style villa outside Tripoli, where he keeps a white tiger, Freddo, among other exotic pets. "We have to be ahead of the world in our region, the Middle East, and not to be lagging behind, because the whole world is heading toward democracy." - Seif el-Islam el-Qaddafi, son of Libyan leader Col. M. Qaddafi.
It's an embarrassing development for democratists, and a harbinger the horrible democracy fad (the polyester leisure suit of political arrangements) has peaked when even the morons in Libya are advocating it.

I do not expect to witness any Western democracy switch to monarchy during my lifetime, but I do have hope that one day one of the many children I have fathered in various places about the globe in the course of my travels will.

I receive a letter from my good friend, Professor Glen Morangie, one of the great thinkers of our age (and a sadly unappreciated one). He is alarmed by news reports that the deadliest hurricanes' names are to be retired. He thinks this will only encourage hurricanes to be as destructive as possible, in order to get their names honored in this fashion. I forward Professor Morangie's letter to the proper authorities.

I am once again in unhappy Seattle (even Seattle’s homosexualists seem depressed these days, despite being promised a monorail). For all of her shortcomings, Seattle’s grey, drizzly weather makes it an ideal city to have a hangover in, and therefore a perfect place for me to be for the holidays. I will try to wring whatever small enjoyment out of Seattle I can before her miserable passive aggressive citizens destroy the city completely with dimwitted and obscenely expensive (in the billions) transportation schemes, which include the aforementioned ‘manorail’, light rail, and now possibly an underground tunnel for cars to drive in. Who will pay for all this? Those with any money and good sense will be leaving Seattle as soon as these projects commence being built, as the construction process will make an already depressing city unlivable.

Much talk in Seattle centers around the controversial ballot recount in the Gov.s race. Accusations about election fraud have been made. It would not…

Hello Tokyo! I first stumbled across Japan on a trip to Nippon, and was so impressed I forgot all about my original destination. The futuristic cityscape of Tokyo is like no place on earth. If Godzilla were alive today he would hardly recognize his old stomping grounds. I have terrible jet-lag. Crime in Tokyo is so low I can go anywhere with no worries someone is going to steal either of my two suitcases (one filled with bottles of beer, the other filled with a selection of liquor - the price of drinks is a bit excessive here). Tokyo pays young people to dress up as cartoon characters and interact with tourists, like Disneyland. Only it's better, because in Tokyo one can smoke cigarettes almost anywhere.

But I am not in Tokyo to have a good time, I am here for sex. Specifically, I have come to attend a conference of Great Minds who have gathered to solve the crisis of Japan’s declining birthrate ('shoshika!' to those in the know). I was initially baffled by what little in…

En route to Japan on a long flight across the Pacific, my thoughts turn to England. It is no secret England has suffered a widespread decline in manners. Even British ghosts have become boors: one of the UK’s leading newspapers reports on a spectral presence dubbed the ‘Phantom Bumpincher’ for the lewd manner of his hauntings. This is sad, only a few generations ago even the rudest English ghosts never did anything worse than a little moaning and chain clanking . It’s not just England haunted by a Phantom Bumpincher, but my plane as well, or so I tell the cute stewardess who is now glaring at me and refusing to serve me any more drinks.

I am finally out of the madness inducing continent of Antarctica, and I am never going back, even when all the ice there melts (something supposed to happen any day now).

I am at present in Guatemala City, Guatemala, to attend the unveiling of plans for the new Maya University, or Mayab' Nimatijob'al in the Quiche language, an institution of higher learning to be based on "the culture of Mayans". Most are unfamiliar with the culture of the Mayans, which is unfortunate, as it had many exciting qualities:

Human sacrifice was perpetrated on prisoners, slaves, and particularly children, with orphans and illegitimate children specially purchased for the occasion...Priests were assisted in human sacrifices by four older men who were known as chacs, in honour of the Rain God, Chac. These men would hold the arms and legs of a sacrificial victim while the chest was opened up by another individual called a nacom.

Fretful scientist (aren't they all these days?) Professor Lloyd Peck is claiming the Antarctic (where I am at present enduring one of the worst vacations of my life), because it is thawing, is on "the edge of disaster". How can he tell? Only a scientist could argue that not being frozen in a block of ice is a "disaster". He is upset that "this trip I saw grass growing in areas that I have not seen grass before." Someone should ask Professor Peck if he has a lawn in front of his house or an ice rink. Professor Peck worries that a thaw will harm the local wildlife. I can assure him that the Yeti's that once roamed these frozen wastes must already be extinct as I haven't seen a single one.

Oddly, after claiming concern for the local wildlife, the egotistical Professor Lloyd Peck confesses "We take clams out of the sediment and let them bury themselves again. We take limpets off the seashore, turn them over and let them turn back again.&quot…

Antarctica is sorely lacking in nightlife. It is also sorely lacking in night, as the sun does not set in Antarctica this time of year. Perpetual day has destroyed my already tenuous ability to sleep, and I find myself staring for hours at the monotonous expanse of empty, white landscape, which I paint a picture of, since there is nothing else to do. My guidebook is out of date. I have not met a single Eskimo or Yeti, as I was promised, and I am beginning to suspect that my travel agent is less than reputable.

Garanth Franke-Ruta has launched a follow-up to his smear campaign against the always insightful Steve Sailer. I detected the strains of envy in Mr. Franke-Ruta’s original attack, his latest confirms my observation, as he complains:

...Sailer...is so able to position himself as a social scientist that even occasional liberals cite his statistics and a major conservative opinion writer touts his work before an audience of more than a million readers.

As opposed to Mr. Franke-Ruta, who despite dressing as a woman and parading about receives little notice. If Franke-Ruta continues to be ignored (as he undoubtedly will be) I worry that he will begin resorting to ever more desperate stunts to get attention. I urge those close to him to either get him psychiatric help now or else get him a job with the circus.

There has been considerable outcry about the unpleasant new airport security ‘pat down’ searches (‘pat down’ is a bureaucratic euphemism for groping). Recently I endured a screening that went on for an inordinate amount of time, so long that I became suspicious that there wasn’t a hidden homosexualist agenda behind it. The moustached airport security worker fondling me certainly seemed to be enjoying the process an awful lot. I complained to a security supervisor, and he assured me that the security worker who had fondled me was actually a woman. Well there you go. If we all must suffer these invasive and politically correct ‘safety’ measures, it seems the least they could do is make it more pleasant by hiring attractive personnel (if Hooters can do it, why can't the TSA?).

But making things more pleasant is not an interest of our horrible elected leaders in these United States. They, in fact, wish to make us more miserable. This is why our government has gone to such great lengt…

"...To the bartender here I don’t exist outside this bar: he knows my drink, but I have not ceded enough information of my real (or should I should say ‘other’?) life for him to form even a partial image of my actual existence. To him I materialize, consume, and dematerialize..."

From a recent grotesquerie at Luxurious Misery, a journal of conspicuous consumption and despair.

Probity was once an esteemed quality. Today probity has become so unusual that the word itself is becoming obscure. Irreverent Probity is attempting a restoration (and discussing Kierkegaard).

Flying late at night clears the clouded mind. While the rest of the mostly empty plane is sleeping, I reflect upon terrible acts I have committed during the course of my life. For a time when I was younger, I would go out on the town with the sole purpose of luring young women back to my lodgings in order to seduce them. At some point before or after engaging in ecstatic wrestlings I would charm or coerce them into shaving their pubises. (At this point I’m sure many of my younger readers are asking, confusedly, “Why weren’t their pubises shaved already?” being unaware that particular grooming habit has only recently become ubiquitous (my personal investigations lead me to believe that it only becomes common starting among women born after 1978)). I collected and saved the shaved hairs over a period of months, and after amassing a substantial amount had it woven into a wig which I then donated to a charitable organization that provides free toupees to low-income bald men.

I find myself in Vaduz, the largest city of Liechtenstein, a tiny redoubt of civilization located between bland Switzerland and corrupt Austria. Vaduz has no monorail, but per capita it does have numerous international banks (with catchy names like 'Liechtensteinische Landesbank Aktiengesellschaft'), enough to satisfy the most complex tax evasion and money laundering needs.

What truly sets Liechtenstein apart as a country is that it has not succumbed to the foolish democracy fad which has ruined all other modern nations. Liechtenstein is still ruled by a monarch, as it has been since the the Middle Ages (not coincidentally the last decent period in human history). The current head of state is Prince Hans-Adam II of Liechtenstein, a rather dashing fellow, and over dinner at Vaduz Castle he describes to me the wealth and happiness that flows to Liechtenstein's people as a result of its monarchical system (if you are surprised by that you have not read Hans-Hermann Hoppe).

No explanation for mystery gas cloud Things are back to normal in Kittery, after a mysterious cloud of gas floated over the city Monday morning, causing several stores and the town's high school to be evacuated..(more)

I wonder, what were the whereabouts of female impersonator and third-rate journalist Garance Franke-Ruta on the day in question? In a recent item published on the webpage of little read magazine The American Prospect, Mr. Franke-Ruta, clearly suffering from envy, has taken it upon himself to attack the brilliant Steve Sailer because Sailer was quoted in the New York Times (apparently no one at the New York Times will take notice of the journalism of poor Mr. Garance Franke-Ruta, despite his pretending to be a woman). But the attack is nothing more than an odorous gas cloud. Mr. Franke-Ruta's accuses the New York Times of being "shoddy" for mentioning Sailer, and calls Sailer's opinions "clap-t…

"Paradise was unendurable, otherwise the first man would have adapted to it; this world is no less so, since here we regret paradise or anticipate another one. What to do? where to go? Do nothing and go nowhere, easy enough" - E. M. Cioran

Somehow Scandinavians manage to be sexually uninhibited and boring at the same time. I pondered this acutely modern paradox as I walked with the Mayor of Sweden, up Apelbersgatain (all streets in Sweden have ridiculous names), along Slojdgatan, and down Mallmskillnadsgatan (a part of her city the Mayor seemed particularly proud of).

Eventually she took me to a zoo, where together we observed various sorry creatures in cages, despondent from being so far from home. The Mayor told me that when one of the zoo’s animals dies, instead of purchasing a new one the zoo policy now is to hire a Muslim immigrant and have him dress up in costume as the deceased animal. This helps the zoo stay under budget and it is hoped that if they are kept busy the muslim immigrants will stab fewer people.

“Sweden is very tolerant of its Muslim immigrants”, the mayor tells me (though she can’t tell me why). “We are also very tolerant of the gays.” If that’s the case, I reply, then why don’t you build your ho…

No one is happy in the airport. That man has invented machines to fly is incredible in itself, that nearly everyone is able to fly anywhere in the world at relatively little cost is practically a miracle. What does it say about the modern world that we not only fail to appreciate this, but have managed to make flying a miserable experience?

At some point during the flight an obese man in the seat next to me dozes off. Or at least I think he does, it doesn't look as if he is breathing. I'm not sure what to do. I suffer from a strange psychological condition (that I have yet to find a name for) in which I convince myself that sleeping people are actually dead. I tell myself that as long as he has life insurance (and it is his own fault if he does not) his poor wife (if he has one) will will be better off with him out of the picture, and with this happy thought in my head I doze off too.

Seattle is a city of pretensions, though it is impossible to determine what the city has to be pretentious about. When you ask Seattlians (as I do) what Seattle has to be pretentious about, its meek and dull citizens will incongruously point to the nearby mountains as being at the heart of the city's charm (if the city's charm is from natural objects outside the city, why not point to the moon?) Some suggest Seattle's grotesque new sports stadiums (I can hardly believe it myself). Others point to the ridiculous glass junk that people in Seattle consider to be art because they don't know anything about art.

A few honest ones will admit that while it rains a lot, the weather is never punitive, and unlike some places it is fairly easy for a person who minds his own business to avoid being attacked by Negroes, and besides there are a lot of Thai restaurants. So there you have it.

Recently, the citizens of Seattle decided to make their already mediocre city even worse by bu…